


rise through the ranks

by freosan



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Corporal Punishment, Internalized Victim Blaming, M/M, Unwilling Arousal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:15:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24903667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freosan/pseuds/freosan
Summary: Ravus hears whispers as he shucks his field jacket. He tries not to pay them any mind but he suspects that he’s intended to overhear at least some of the remarks.Soft, andhow’s he supposed to be in charge, andoughta be whipped- only that last really throws him. The rest he’s had said to his face before, but that’s new. He’s heard tell that the Army uses corporal punishment on its lower ranks, sometimes, but no one has ever dared to try it with him.
Relationships: Ravus Nox Fleuret/Ardyn Izunia, Ravus Nox Fleuret/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 40
Collections: Nonconathon 2020





	rise through the ranks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Yashitsu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yashitsu/gifts).



The trip back to the barracks is tense. Ravus’s squad is often quiet after maneuvers, but today, the silence does not seem to be just the silence of exhausted men. There’s an edge to it, something darker; Ravus catches more than one man glaring directly at him. By the rules of the Imperial army they cannot criticize a superior officer except through proper channels, but they can certainly make their displeasure known.

“Clean up,” he tells them as they file inside. “Dress uniforms. The Major arrives in fifteen minutes.” He’d received the message as they rode back on the drop ship. It’s strange that the Major would come to their barracks rather than meeting them in the yard, but that was not the part of the message that grated most. Were Ravus from Niflheim, it would be he who reprimanded his subordinates for their abysmal performance today. But Ravus is only in his position by virtue of the ‘treaty’ with Tenebrae, and his authority is only barely accepted on the battlefield.

Ravus hears whispers as he shucks his field jacket. He tries not to pay them any mind but he suspects that he’s intended to overhear at least some of the remarks. _Soft_ , and _how’s he supposed to be in charge,_ and _oughta be whipped_ \- only that last really throws him. The rest he’s had said to his face before, but that’s new. He’s heard tell that the Army uses corporal punishment on its lower ranks, sometimes, but no one has ever dared to try it with him.

Despite the grumbling, his squad snaps to attention when Major Eludere shows up at the door. After their failure today, they all expect to be thoroughly tongue-lashed, and they do not escape it. 

The Major directs most of his rage towards Ravus, as he should. Ravus may be only just nineteen, but he is in charge of this squad. He is the one who was trained for leadership and who failed to bring them to victory. Ravus spends the time while he is being yelled at retreating into his own mental checklists of what went wrong: how he lost the first deployment of MTs, and how the Lucians got the drop on them in the field.

“What do you have to say for yourself, Lieutenant?” Eludere finishes, when he has thoroughly reprimanded all of them for their abysmal performance on the battlefield today.

“The fault is mine. I shall take whatever punishment is expected, Major,” Ravus tells him. Some bravado prompts him to add, “I did not sign on to be coddled.”

There are murmurs from behind him. Ravus does not think they are particularly respectful.

Major Eludere grins, or at least, shows his teeth. “You’ve been listening to your squad, have you?” he says. “Good. We’ll make an officer out of you yet.”

Ravus holds himself stiff at attention. Eludere is _watching_ him, still grinning, and while Ravus is used to being evaluated and found wanting, this does not feel like that sort of look. Eludere lets Ravus sweat as the seconds drag on. But finally, he nods.

“Tell me, Lieutenant, did they ever use the strap on you in basic training?” he asks.

Ravus hesitates. The way Eludere speaks is not like the way a superior officer speaks to an inferior one. He sounds more like the men who have tried to come on to Ravus in the officers’ bar. But the bite is back in his voice as he says, “Answer, Lieutenant.”

“No, Major,” Ravus replies. He doesn’t like the way this is going, but he can see no way to get out of it.

Eludere snorts. “Maybe that’s your problem. I can fix that. I don’t have the usual strap but my belt will do. Right?” 

That last is directed to the group still standing at attention behind him. Ravus grits his teeth as his squad delivers a chorus of, “Sir, yes, sir.”

“Well, Lieutenant. Sounds like we have a plan.” He gives Ravus that lascivious look again, filling Ravus’s veins with ice, and begins unbuckling his belt. “Bend over your bunk.”

Of course. This is why Eludere had them meet inside, where only Ravus’s squad would judge him. And they do not seem to be judging him badly. “You intended this,” Ravus accuses, forgetting his drilled manners entirely.

Eludere pulls his belt off and folds it in half in his hand, testing the weight. It looks heavy, and Eludere is well-muscled; Ravus can only imagine the kind of force he could put behind it. “Does it matter? You said you’d take your punishment, or are you a liar as well as a failure?” 

“I am a Prince of Tenebrae, and I will not be treated in this manner.”

“You’re a Lieutenant of the Niflheim Empire’s army, and you’ll follow orders,” Eludere nearly growls. “Unless you’re planning to desert.”

Ravus isn’t. This will no doubt be as humiliating as Eludere intended it to be, but he has to take it. He cannot risk being thrown out of the army or, worse, court-martialed and imprisoned. “No, Major.”

“Get on with it then.” Eludere’s tone brooks no argument.

Ravus looks steadily ahead, his head high, as he walks the few steps to his own bunk and bends stiffly over, so his hands rest on the thin mattress. 

“Good choice. Your men will respect you more if they see you following orders,” Eludere says. “Get on your elbows.”

There’s a chorus of quiet snickering as Ravus does it. His squad fans out around the bed, all of them watching as Ravus puts himself on _display_. If this is how the Niflheim army disciplines its soldiers, Ravus understands why all of them are so crude.

“Usually they make us count these, but since you’ve never had the strap before, I’m going to go until I think you’re done,” Eludere says. His boot heels click on the floor as he walks closer, and Ravus hears the snap of the belt against his hand. 

Ravus’s hands curl into fists. “Get on with it,” he says.

“As his highness commands,” Eludere says, and then he brings the belt down across Ravus’s backside.

The sound hits before the feeling does, loud enough to make Ravus jump, and then pain like fire blossoms across his arse. He clenches his teeth tightly together. He may have to take this but he does not have to be _weak_ about it.

Eludere hits him thrice more, and then laughs quietly. “Don’t hold your breath. You’ll pass out and we’ll have to start over.”

Ravus refuses to do this twice. He takes a deep breath through his nose, his jaw still shut tight against making any noise. Another flurry of strikes follows, crossing over the bruises already there to add more pain. Ravus’s legs shake as he tries to hold still; every instinct he has him wants to fight, or simply to _hide_ from the blows, but he cannot. 

“A stoic, I see.” Eludere’s voice is closer than Ravus expected it to be; he hadn’t noticed that the Major had come up behind him. “I should’ve expected that out of a _prince_ ,” Eludere mocks him. His hand slides up the inside of Ravus’s thigh, over the welts on his arse, and for the first time Ravus flinches. “Hold him down.”

Hands come down on Ravus’s wrists and the back of his head. He can’t see whose. They shove his shoulders down to the mattress, and someone holds his hips so he has to stay bent at the waist. He struggles and kicks, as Eludere reaches around him and undoes his belt, unbuttons his trousers, but then his ankles too are pinned. Eludere fights his clothing down around his knees and leaves him bare.

Rough fingers touch one of the welts on the back of his thigh and then a hand slaps him, hard. “Stop that,” Eludere snaps. “You want to see him beat up, I’ll do it for you.”

“Yes, sir,” Ravus hears. Then the belt comes down again, harder, and more painful with no fabric to dull it. He can’t help crying out, muffled against the sheets, but loud enough that they can all hear it.

“That’s more like it,” Eludere says. But he doesn’t stop. He hits Ravus across both thighs, just above the knees, and Ravus’s legs would buckle except for all the hands holding him in place. Instead he’s forced to stay standing while Eludere works his way up the backs of his thighs, stroke by stroke. 

Ravus can taste bile in the back of his throat, and feel tears welling up at the corners of his eyes. Eludere stops when he reaches Ravus’s arse and for one moment Ravus thinks it might be over, but then he begins again: starting at the top and working back down, each new strike crossing an old one, precise and sadistic.

After that first, shameful cry, Ravus keeps his mouth shut. The pain builds up and tries to burst forth from him, but he refuses to give them the satisfaction. Eludere gives him one more series of stripes and then steps back. He walks around to the foot of the bed, where Ravus can see him out of one eye even pinned down.

“That’s more than most of your soldiers have ever taken,” Eludere tells him. “And all at once. Not bad, for a spoiled royal. But you’re not even sorry yet, are you?” 

Ravus ignores the insult. As he speaks, Eludere unfolds the belt in his hands and wraps part of it around his hand, leaving the buckle dangling. Ravus can’t take his eyes off it. Eludere grins when he sees where Ravus’s attention is.

“I think he _wants_ it,” he announces to the room. There’s laughter and general cheers of, “Give it to him!” 

Ravus knew his subordinates did not respect him, but he had no idea it was _this_ bad. But what, he thinks grimly, would he have done if he had? He can hardly change his birth, or how he came to fight for Niflheim.

Eludere disappears behind him again. There’s no warning but the whistle of the belt through the air before the buckle comes down on Ravus’s arse. It knocks the breath out of his lungs, his body reeling from the pain. A second strike, no time to recover, and Ravus sees sparks behind his eyelids. It feels as though it’s cut him open, and maybe it has. The blows rain down until Ravus can’t feel them individually, just a single mass of throbbing pain.

“He still alive?” Eludere asks, and the hands at his head and shoulders move so that they can pick him up by his hair and make sure he’s breathing. When the grip on his hair releases, Ravus lets himself fall back to the bed. He can’t make himself move.

“Maybe they make ‘em tougher than I thought in Tenebrae,” Eludere says. “I bet he’ll take this, too.”

There’s more laughter. Ravus doesn’t know what Eludere is talking about. He has himself braced to be hit again, but the next thing he feels is something blunt pushing against his asshole. _No._ He tries to get up, but there are too many people holding him, and he’s too weak; he can’t fight it off.

“Damn tight,” Eludere grunts as he tries to shove his cock into Ravus’s hole. “I can’t be your first, can I? Pretty prince like you? C’mon, _take it_ ,” he orders, gripping two handfuls of Ravus’s burning arse. Another thrust and Ravus’s body gives to him, stretching past what Ravus thought was his limit.

Ravus doesn’t dignify him with an answer. At least he doesn’t sob. He thought he might, but he bites it back and only groans once as Eludere fucks him hard. As he thrusts Eludere slaps the bruises on Ravus’s arse and thighs so that Ravus writhes, almost as if he’s _participating._

“He _likes_ this!” Eludere pants. Ravus can hear the smile in his voice. “Lucky him.” 

One day, Ravus thinks, as Eludere pounds him, he will kill every one of them. Eludere last. Eludere pulls out and comes across the bruises he beat into Ravus’s arse, and Ravus _burns_ with the shame of it. 

“Alright, leave him alone,” Eludere says. The hands pinning him pull away and Eludere slaps Ravus hard, sending him forward onto the bed. He tries to get up immediately, but his legs won’t obey him. The best he can manage is pushing himself up well enough to meet Eludere’s eyes as he glares.

Eludere smiles at him. “Now you know what happens when you fail, Nox Fleuret,” he says. “Don’t do it again. Or do, if you want another round.”

Ravus falls back to the bed, to general snickering, and listens as Eludere walks out and the rest of them shuffle off to their beds.

They don’t touch him. Ravus was sure they would, once left alone, but Eludere’s orders and the hierarchy beaten into the Niflheim army are enough to stop them from trying anything. Ravus only has to fear such treatment from his superior officers.

He will not allow it to happen again.

—

He keeps his promise to himself through five months, four separate maneuvers, and his own promotion to Captain. It is not easy. After Eludere’s punishment Ravus is reassigned to a different squad and, with his promotion, still a different division, but word travels fast in any army. Every officer knows exactly what Eludere did to him, and the enlisted men can make good guesses. 

Ravus relies mostly on his MTs and his own wit to establish the new outpost in Leide. It is not glorious work, but it brings Ravus closer to his goal, and he exults in bringing the forces of Niflheim to bear against the Lucians. And, he finds, with each win he can hold his head a little higher. If he ever thought he might earn renown for himself, those childish dreams are dashed, but at least he is not _only_ the disgraced foreign noble who allowed himself to be raped in front of a room full of enlisted men.

It was inevitable, though, that he fail. In the heat of battle one of Ravus’s men ignores his order to fall back, drives forward into the mass of Lucians, and dies for it. The resulting chaos results in a rout for Ravus’s division and a thoroughly embarrassing loss of territory. They fall back and hold the line at their original outpost for three days, before Ravus and Ravus alone is called back to base.

This time Eludere meets him in the yard when the dropship lands, too impatient to wait for Ravus to walk to his doom. But he is not alone. There’s another man with him; Ravus recognizes him immediately. Chancellor Izunia is impossible to mistake or ignore.

“So this is the young man,” he says, when Ravus salutes. “Goodness, you didn’t mention it was Prince Ravus.”

“Captain Nox Fleuret, to us, Chancellor,” Eludere tells him. “He didn’t come up through the ranks like everyone else, so sometimes he needs more discipline than you’d think.”

Lately Ravus has not had to look up to anyone, but Izunia is a few inches taller than he. When Ravus catches his eye, he smirks, nearly as off-putting as Eludere’s smugness.

“Is that so? Oh, I suppose I can see the benefits. Perhaps you’d allow me to do the honors,” the Chancellor says. Ravus knows, and he can see that Eludere knows, it is not a request.

“Of course, sir,” Eludere says. “Captain Nox Fleuret, go with the Chancellor.”

“Yes, Major,” Ravus replies.

“All you military men are so well-trained,” Izunia muses. Eludere doesn’t look any happier with that remark than Ravus feels. But Ravus doesn’t have time to gloat about it; Izunia turns and walks off, beckoning Ravus to follow him.

Ravus tosses off a salute to Eludere and goes, his eyes locked on Izunia’s messy red hair so that he may not see anyone watching him. Ravus has been the subject of much open speculation and mockery, though he’s so far put off any advances. It was only a matter of time before someone he couldn’t refuse came along. That it should be the Chancellor is unexpected, but no worse or better than anyone else.

They walk farther than Ravus expected to: into the barracks building, and then down the hall where the officers’ rooms are. Ravus realizes as they pass his own small room that they must be heading for the Chancellor’s quarters. It becomes harder to continue his measured walk.

“You’ve guessed where I’m taking you, of course,” Izunia says without looking back at him. “I did think you would rather have privacy for this. But simply say the word and I shall relocate us to the training yard.”

His voice is so casual, he could be joking, but Ravus knows no one would stop him if he did. He picks up his pace again. “No, sir.”

“Good man. Come along, then.” Izunia leads him past some of the generals’ quarters before he finds his own door. He unlocks it and walks in. Ravus, lacking any better options, follows.

He’s barely gotten over the threshold before Izunia pins him to the door, which locks itself with a solid _clunk_ behind him.

“Everyone knows what Eludere did with you, and _I_ know that he was planning to take you to two or three of his like-minded fellows this afternoon,” the Chancellor says, still smiling just the same as he does in official photos, while his hands hold Ravus by the wrist and the throat. He’s stronger than Ravus expected and the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “And he will only get worse. So I offer you a choice, Prince Ravus. Do as I say, and allow me to take you under my wing, or I shall throw you back to the tender mercies of Niflheim’s command structure.”

The thought of _more_ of Eludere’s idea of discipline, at the hands of more of the officers, nearly has Ravus in a panic. Izunia can clearly tell, because his smile grows wider as he watches. “What is it that you want?” Ravus finally asks.

“Only your eternal loyalty,” Izunia says with a laugh. Then he lets go of Ravus’s wrist and, very gently, runs his fingers through Ravus’s hair. “I should ask for your soul, but I suppose you’ve sold that to the Emperor already, haven’t you?”

Ravus shudders, turning his head away, but Izunia’s grip on his throat tightens. Izunia continues as if he hasn’t noticed. “I have need of a friend in the military. Do _everything_ I say, and I shall ensure your rise to the highest ranks of the Imperial Army.”

“You have the power for that?” Ravus asks.

“If we are to be in this together, you must trust me, Ravus. Yes, I can make you High Commander if you wish. And if that’s not enough to convince you, perhaps you’d like to visit your dear sister more often? She must be so lonely in her manor alone.” 

“What have you to do with Lunafreya?” Ravus demands, though he’s not sure the question is fair. He does not know who is in charge of her imprisonment, only that he is not allowed to contact her through more than censored letters. To see her again would be worth anything Izunia can put him through.

Izunia does not deign to answer him. He runs his finger down the side of Ravus’s face, instead. “Or, you can refuse me. I’m certain Eludere would appreciate having free rein to abuse you whenever he likes.”

Ravus doesn’t need the threat. He believes Izunia; on the face of it he shouldn’t, the man drips with deception, but he’s heard the whispers that the Chancellor has more power than he ought. “Why me?”

Izunia taps his finger against Ravus’s lips. “No more questions without an answer first.”

Ravus glares at him, but he’s already made his choice. An opportunity like this does not fall in his lap every day. Even if what he must do to get it is… distasteful, he can’t afford to pass up the patronage of someone like Izunia. He nods.

“Is that a yes?” Izunia asks. “Don’t be shy.”

“Yes, Chancellor,” Ravus says.

Izunia smiles slowly. “I do so enjoy it when a dog knows his place,” he says. “Now, why don’t we seal this contract.”

Ravus does his best to keep his disgust off his face, but he doesn’t think he succeeds very well. Not with the way Izunia’s eyes light up. Izunia starts unfastening the collar of Ravus’s jacket, and when Ravus reaches for his hands, Izunia says, “Oh, _eager,_ aren’t we?” and motions for Ravus to do it himself. Ravus unbuttons his jacket and shirt and drops them to the floor, trying not to squirm as he exposes himself.

It’s not as bad as with Eludere, he tells himself. At least here, it’s only Izunia looking at him with hunger in his eyes. At least Izunia hasn’t hurt him yet. Izunia presses him back against the door with his trousers half-open, kisses him hard, and gropes his cock too harshly for pleasure. 

“Perhaps you’re a little nervous?” Izunia asks, the stubble of his beard grazing Ravus’s neck as he speaks. “To the bed, then. I shall make you comfortable, at least.”

He fists one hand in Ravus’s hair and all but drags him back into the bedroom and towards the enormous bed that fills it. The bed will _not_ make Ravus more comfortable, but he doesn’t get the choice. Izunia uses that unexpected strength to throw him onto it before he can protest.

“You’ll enjoy this.” Izunia makes it more of an order than a promise. He hasn’t even taken off his own coat, but he tugs Ravus’s trousers and underwear down. Ravus is still wearing his boots and Izunia tuts at that, then unlaces them and pulls them off. He’s very quick about all of it. Ravus is naked before he can truly process what’s happening.

Izunia smirks up from between his legs and then leans down, pressing his mouth to Ravus’s soft cock, stroking and kissing him gently until Ravus can’t help but get hard. He watches helplessly as Izunia takes his cock in his mouth and sucks. He doesn’t want it to, but it feels _good_ ; no one’s ever done that to him before. He falls back against the bed, his mouth falling open on a moan.

Izunia takes him deep, working at Ravus’s cock until Ravus’s thighs are trembling with the effort of holding still. Ravus doesn’t want to like this, or to let on that he’s liking it, that Izunia was right. But he knows Izunia can tell, anyway. Izunia’s tongue runs up the inside of Ravus’s thigh as Izunia spreads his legs obscenely wide.

“You’ve done this before, of course, and by all accounts you liked it, so I won’t bore you with too much preparation.” Izunia gropes between Ravus’s legs, his fingers pressing against Ravus’s hole. There’s something slick on them. Ravus doesn’t remember that from last time, but Eludere was less interested in giving Ravus pleasure than Izunia is. Still, it’s uncomfortable, unwelcome. Ravus pulls himself up the bed, away from Izunia’s touch.

He shouldn’t have. Izunia is above him again before he can blink, pinning Ravus down. Hands on his wrists, one knee between his legs, pushing down on his balls hard enough to threaten. “I think we won’t do that,” Izunia says. “I’m sure I said _everything_ I say. And I insist that you enjoy yourself.”

Ravus glares. “I shall hold still. Do what you like.”

Izunia, sweet as honey, says, “Would you be happier if I hit you? I’ve heard how much you liked the belt, as well.”

_No_. Ravus won’t accept that. He tries to pull his wrists free but Izunia, for all he’s a bureaucrat who must be twice Ravus’s age, is impossible to budge. Izunia lets him fight and work himself into a panic as he finds he’s just as trapped as last time. To be overpowered by a room full of men is one thing, but this?

“Do _relax_ ,” Izunia tells him, leaning down to kiss the top of Ravus’s head. Ravus jerks away, but there really is nowhere to go. He stops moving, breathing too harshly, trying and failing to hide his fear.

“That’s better. Let me see that you’re scared, that’s good,” Izunia murmurs, leaning down to kiss him again. His tongue sweeps across Ravus’s lips and Ravus lets him in, kissing back, eventually. Izunia seems pleased by that, and he reaches down again, this time to grab Ravus’s leg behind the knee and push it back to his chest.

When he fucks Ravus he does it slowly, moving carefully for what feels like forever until Ravus can no longer hold himself tense. It still hurts, but on top of the pain, it feels _good_. Ravus hates it. He closes his eyes and Izunia reaches down to stroke his cock, just as excruciatingly slow, building pleasure in Ravus’s body even as Ravus tries to fight it.

Ravus didn’t cry while Eludere fucked him, but he does now, tears slipping down his cheeks as Izunia forces him to take his cock and _like_ it. Izunia laughs when he sees it. Ravus tries to push him away again, but Izunia barely has to try to catch both Ravus’s wrists in one hand and pin them above his head. The movement changes the angle and Ravus moans. He fights it, but he can’t stop himself from spilling into Izunia’s hand.

Izunia doesn’t so much as slow down. He keeps stroking Ravus’s cock and fucking him until Ravus whines and tries again to get away, all the pleasure turned into over-sensitive pain. That seems to be what Izunia needs to get over the edge. He buries himself deep inside Ravus and bites Ravus’s shoulder hard, still holding him down.

Eventually he rolls off Ravus’s body. Ravus sits up, moving carefully, and drops his legs over the side of the bed. He should go. Report to command, perhaps, though the idea of telling Eludere that Izunia’s finished with him makes his stomach twist.

“Why Ravus, you’re not thinking of leaving me?” Izunia asks. “We have _so_ much to talk about.” 

“I swore I would not let that happen again,” Ravus says. He doesn’t mean to. Izunia sits up, too, and wraps his arms around Ravus from behind. If Ravus were honorable, he would shove him off. But what would be the point? He’s already let Izunia take everything.

“Think of what you’ve gained, rather than what you’ve lost,” Izunia says. “Soon you will be Commander Nox Fleuret, leader of the Imperial Army. I shall give you whatever you need to keep your sister safe, and I shall be the only one to touch you from now on.” 

It has to be enough. Ravus won’t find a better deal. Izunia kisses the side of Ravus’s neck and runs his hands down Ravus’s chest, intimate, possessive. Ravus doesn’t try to fight him at all.


End file.
